When Love Calls (Chapter Eight)

SAND POINT  
Long Island, New York    
Later That Afternoon    
   
Zaniyah held her breath as the chauffeur rounded the circular driveway.    
    
Another one of her father’s employee, parked her father’s Bentley in his five car garage    
     
“Zaniyah dammit it’s my job, and I thought we were past this doubtful stage once we made love; you know, no condoms, only you and me.”    
     
“I do not think this us thing is going to work. I can’t put my heart out there, knowing you are the man capable of crushing it.”    
     
“Ma’am.”    
     
Lost in the contemplation. She did not realize the chauffeur was addressing her.    
     
“I’m sorry.”    
     
Zaniyah clasped the chauffeur’s hand and stepped out the limousine.    
     
The chauffeur pushed the door close.    
     
Tango joined Zaniyah at the rear of the limousine.    
     
Both walked to the front door.    
     
Tango lifted the door knocker.    
     
The door was opened.    
     
The housekeeper looked from one to the other.    
     
“Good afternoon Miss. Jikonos.”    
     
Zaniyah and then Tango crossed the threshold.    
     
Miss. Jikonos closed the door.    
     
“Miss. Delaro, be advised your father is in a foul mood,” she whispered.    
     
“Thanks for the fair warning,” Zaniyah whispered back.    
     
Zaniyah looked over at Tango. She cleared he throat. She walked in the direction of her father’s study.    
     
Tango was on Zaniyah’s heels. He looked at the back of his Boss’ daughter’s head. He will be glad once Domenico comes up with an elaborate plan to overthrow Mr. Delaro, without raising any eyes or suspicion. After that feat has been accomplished. He will be the one who sits at Domenico’s right hand side to help him take over one of the five largest richest crime syndicate families. Each unsuspectingly member involved in the future coup is willing to comprise their standards, in already assuming there will be risks involved in return.    
     
Tango and Zaniyah stood at the threshold of Mr. Delaro’s door.    
     
Zaniyah knocked on the door to the study.    
     
The door was opened.    
     
Zaniyah stepped inside her father’s study.    
     
Tango stepped in and closed the door behind himself. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, hunched his shoulders forward, and stood at the door with his arms crossed at the wrists.    
     
Zaniyah’s presence ran into several pairs of eyes.    
     
“Grandfather.”    
     
Zaniyah crossed the study and ran into the outstretched arms of her grandfather.    
     
Both embraced and then stepped back.    
     
“Zaniyah, what is this unspeakable act your father has worried me with.”    
     
Zaniyah looked down at her father sitting at his desk.    
     
“I’m sorry grandfather, I do not understand.”    
     
Mr. Delaro lifted the file on Marcus and slammed it down on his desk.    
     
“Word has gotten back to me.” Mr. Delaro looked around the room. “Has gotten back to us all you are consorting with someone from the FBI.”    
     
“But how?”    
     
Zaniyah cut her eyes over at Domenico.    
     
Domenico slightly shook his head.    
     
Zaniyah found her father’s eyes.    
     
“Father, Marcus is not investigating this family. As I advised you before, he was nice enough to assist me when my vehicle did not work.”    
     
“Bullshit! You were seen coming out of this gentleman’s residence this morning.”    
     
Mr. Delaro rose from his chair and walked around his desk. He stood in front of Zaniyah. He drew his hand back and slapped her.    
     
Zaniyah held the side of her cheek and then pivoted her face to her father’s verbal wrath.    
     
“How could you get your mouth to move to lie to me! I suggest today was the last time you are ever seen with this problem.”    
     
“Yes father.”    
     
“By the ending of the week. I think you could stand a change of scenery.” Mr. Delaro walked over to the window. He looked out at the landscape grounds surrounding his estate. He turned back around to face Zaniyah. “You will return to Italy at once.”    
     
“Father no. I have an art gallery here, my life is here, my friends, please.”    
     
“Silence!” Mr. Delaro barked.    
     
Zaniyah looked over at her grandfather.    
     
“Grandfather.”    
     
“Zaniyah, I have to agree with your father. Certain elements of importance, which you have no control over are now at stake.”    
     
“I did not choose to be a part of this family, this family chose me once you married mother and had a daughter.”    
     
“Watch your mouth young lady,” her grandmother stated.    
     
“Yes nana. However, I refuse to go to Italy. I am a grown woman, who have done nothing but what’s asked of me from this family. I will not return to Italy.”    
     
Mr. Delaro ran up to Zaniyah.    
     
“How dare you!”    
     
Domenico stepped in front of Zaniyah.    
     
“Mr. Delaro, think about it. If Zaniyah stays, then we know which direction our enemy is striking us from.”    
     
“Mr. Delaro Sr. looked over at his son.    
     
“For once, I have to agree with Domenico. If this gentleman is investigating the activities of this family, to remove Zaniyah from the equation, would raise a red flag. I say allow Zaniyah to associate her presence with this man. She may gain some valuable information which at any given time we could use against him.”    
     
“Such as?”    
     
“As you stated son, consorting with the enemy. In a court of law I think that’s what’s called a conflict of interest,” his mother chimed in.    
     
Mr. Delaro palmed his chin down, thinking about the possibilities. He returned to his desk and sat. He looked up at Zaniyah.    
     
“Leave my office.”    
     
“Yes sir.”    
     
Zaniyah turned and walked toward the door.    
     
Tango stepped aside and opened the door. He looked down at Zaniyah’s reddish flushed face.    
     
Zaniyah walked out her father’s study.    
     
Tango pushed the door close.    
     
“Son what is this status of our men from Sicily.”    
     
“They will be arriving sometime this afternoon.”    
     
Domenico looked over at Tango.    
     
“Then I say we need to hold off on this bloodbath until we have that last title deed in our hand. We start the street war, and then we conspire to blame it on the niggers on Lenox Avenue.”    
     
“That sounds like a plan father.”    
     
“Tango and Domenico.”    
     
“Yes Mr. Delaro,” Domenico replied.    
     
Tango walked over to Mr. Delaro’s desk.    
     
“How can I help you sir?”    
     
“Tango, I need several men to stake out this nigger’s place, and I need your men to be less conspicuous; we are not dealing with your average, we are dealing with one who is educated, and very skillful at what he does.”    
     
“Yes sir, and I have the perfect men for this job.”    
     
“Domenico, is Mr. Ramo on board with that title deed yet?”    
     
“No sir. This evening, I will make a personal appearance.”    
     
“If you can’t twist his arm, break it, literary.”    
     
“Yes sir.”    
     
“I need you two to get on your assignment, and I want updates, especially, if and when my daughter visits that coon.”    
     
“Yes sir.”    
     
Tango turned and walked over to the door. He opened the door and walked out.    
     
“Domenico, do you have glue to those expensive shoes my money is paying for you to wear.”    
     
Domenico looked around Mr. Delaro’s office.    
     
“Yes sir.”    
     
Domenico turned and walked to the door. He walked out Mr. Delaro’s office, and pulled the door close.    
     
THE GRAND MILLENNIUM CONDOMINIUMS    
Manhattan, New York    
Upper West Side    
     
Later That Afternoon    
     
Zaniyah slammed the door close to her condominium. She dropped her purse on the floor and ran into the bathroom. She rushed over to her double vanity mirror. She peered closer. The reddish mark across her cheek was faint, but very much visible. She touched it.    
     
“Ouch.”    
     
Tears slid down Zaniyah’s cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hands.    
     
“I’m too old to be treated like this.”    
     
“So, what becomes of this, us?”    
     
“Nothing. We never began this, or, us thing.”    
     
Her telephone rang.    
     
Zaniyah stepped back. She looked at her reflection again.    
     
Maybe makeup can conceal the redness she thought.    
     
She walked out the bathroom, through her foyer, and over to the telephone stand. She lifted the telephone receiver from out the cradle and placed it up to her ear.    
     
“Hello.”    
     
ZD’S ART GALLERY    
Park Avenue    
Manhattan, New York    
     
“Miss. Delaro, I think you need to come down to the Art Gallery.”    
     
“What’s the problem Nikki?”    
     
“There was slight flood in one of the bathrooms.”    
     
“Was any merchandise damaged?”    
     
“No, however, you have to come in to sign for the shipment.”    
     
“I’m not due for a shipment of merchandise until next week.”    
     
“Not according to this wooden crate addressed to this address.”    
     
Zaniyah singed to herself.    
     
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”    
     
THE GRAND MILLENNIUM CONDOMINIUMS    
Manhattan, New York    
Upper West Side    
     
Zaniyah replaced the telephone back on the cradle. She walked over to the door and lifted her purse from off the Italian marble floor. Shen opened the door, walked out her condominium, and pulled the door close. She walked to the private elevator and pressed the down button.    
     
The elevator doors open.    
     
Zaniyah stepped on the elevator.    
     
The elevator doors slid close.    
     
ZD’S ART GALLERY    
Park Avenue    
Manhattan, New York    
   
The taxicab driver pulled his taxi in the back of Zaniyah’s art gallery. He pressed in the fare meter.    
     
“Ma’am that would be twenty dollars.”    
     
Zaniyah opened her Gucci purse. She lifted her wallet and opened it. She took out thirty dollars and closed her purse back. She handed the taxicab driver the two bills over the seat.    
     
“You may keep the change, sir.”    
     
The taxicab driver looked down at the amount.    
     
“Thank you.”    
     
Zaniyah scooted to the door, reached for the door handle, and then opened the door. She stepped out the taxicab and pushed the door close.    
     
The taxicab driver pulled off.    
     
Zaniyah walked to the rear door of her art gallery. She opened her purse and lifted a keyring. She inserted the key into the top lock and twisted it; she duplicated her actions to the bottom lock. She dropped the keyring back inside her purse, closed it, and opened the door. She entered her art gallery and pushed the door close. She locked both locks.    
     
Zaniyah walked through the storage area of her art gallery. She walked down a carpeted corridor. She heard her Curator and someone talking. She entered the front foyer of the art gallery. Her eyebrows rose with curiosity at the wooden crate sitting in the middle of her art galley.    
     
“Good afternoon everyone, and what do we have here?”    
     
“A delivery, this gentleman needs for you to sign for.”    
     
“And Nikki, you could not have singed for this in my absence.”    
     
“I’m sorry ma’am, but I have specific instructions for the owner to sign upon deliver.”    
     
The delivery man handed Zaniyah an electronic slate board to sign.    
     
Zaniyah lifted the stylus pen and signed her signature. She handed the slate board with an attached stylus back to the delivery man.    
     
The man angled his dolly back and walked to the front door. He pushed the door open and walked out the art gallery.    
     
Zaniyah looked the crate over.    
     
“I thought you may need this.”    
     
Her assistant handed her a crowbar.    
     
“Thanks.”    
     
Zaniyah inserted the paw of the crowbar within the allotted space; she pushed the crowbar down. She copied her action to all four sides. Zaniyah placed the crowbar down on a podium display stand.    
     
“Nikki, can you flip the door sign to out to lunch.”    
     
“Sure.”    
     
Nikki turned and walked over to front door. She flipped the sign over to out to lunch. She walked back over to where Zaniyah stood.    
     
Zaniyah lifted the top of the crate and rested it against the side of the crate. She pushed aside the bubble wrap and rumpled inside. She lifted a brown teddy bear. She rumpled inside again. She pulled out two more teddy bears. She noticed the entire crate contained several teddy bears.  Zaniyah dropped the three teddy bears back inside the crate    
     
“I definitely know this shipment is a mistake.” She glanced over at her assistant. “Was there an invoice attached.”    
     
“No invoice was attached.”    
     
“I will send it back today. It appears someone is missing a crate with multiple teddy bears inside.”    
     
“I’ll get right on it.”    
     
“Thanks Nikki.”    
     
“I will be in the back at my desk if I’m needed. You could keep that crate where it’s at until someone returns to cart it off.”    
     
“All right.”    
     
Zaniyah turned and walked back to her office.    
     
QUINTESSENTIAL TRIBECA LOFT    
New York, New York    
     
Marcus read over the new incoming recruit profiles; he separated them my importance of skills. He stopped and palmed his chin down.    
     
“I have to train several FBI incoming recruits, and then I’m taking my beautiful woman out to dinner later on, and then maybe a movie, make love to her all night long until exhaustion sets in.”    
     
“I…I have other plans this evening.”    
     
“Plans my dick!”    
     
The door intercom buzzed.    
     
Marcus lifted his weapon from off the table and placed it behind the waistband of his jeans. He rose and walked over to the door.    
     
He pressed in the intercom.    
     
“Yeah.”    
     
“Ahh, Marcus, I left an expensive earring in your bedroom.”    
     
Marcus smiled to himself.    
     
“Is it an earring worth keeping?”    
     
“Yes.”    
     
Marcus released the entrance door lock. He opened his door once he heard the freight elevator arrive to its destination.    
     
The freight elevator cage opened.    
     
Zaniyah stepped off.    
     
The first thing Marcus noticed was a pair of long legs stuffed in a pair of white stilettoes sandals, two toned thighs, up to a short white mini-dress hugging voluptuous hips. He wondered who will be the next man who sucks on a pair of marble size nipples resting lazily against the fabric of her dress.    
     
“Good evening.”    
     
“Yes it is.”    
     
Marcus stepped aside and permitted Zaniyah’s entrance into his loft. He closed the door.    
     
Zaniyah was already walking up the staircase.    
     
Marcus rushed over to the staircase and took the steps two at a time.    
     
Zaniyah was on her knees looking under Marcus’ bed.    
     
Marcus looked down at Zaniyah’s derrière.    
     
“You need any help.”    
     
Zaniyah lifted her head and found Marcus’ eyes.    
     
“I was sure they were here.”    
     
Zaniyah stood she walked over to the door.    
     
Marcus stepped in front of her forwarding progress.    
     
“Have dinner with me tonight.”    
     
“I’m sorry, I made plans.”    
     
Marcus lifted Zaniyah’s chin.    
     
Both stared into each other’s eyes.    
     
“Baby what's wrong?”    
     
“Nothing, I’m fine why you ask?”    
     
“You looked like something is on your mind.”    
     
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his chest.    
     
“If you do not want to join me for dinner, could you at least entertain me this evening with your company? You look too damn good to be in the company of any other, than me.”    
     
Marcus pulled Zaniyah closer by the bend in her back.    
     
“No Marcus.”    
     
Marcus leaned his forehead against Zaniyah’s chest. He closed his eyes.    
     
“Beautiful woman what are you so afraid of? I promise not to hurt you.”    
     
“I...I can’t    
     
Marcus reopened his eyes. He kissed up Zaniyah’s cleavage. He kissed under her chin.    
     
“I...I said no.”    
     
Marcus’ lips sheltered Zaniyah’s lips.    
     
Zaniyah gently pushed at Marcus’ chest.    
     
Marcus pulled Zaniyah closer to his body. His palms imprisoned her body against his. Marcus' lips refuse to give her air.    
     
Zaniyah’s hands crept up around Marcus’ neck. Her mouth cherished his.    
     
Marcus lifted Zaniyah.    
     
Zaniyah wrapped her legs around Marcus’ back. He kissed her and walked to where the fire crackled behind the fireplace screen. He lowered her to the carpet.    
     
Marcus laid between Zaniyah’s thighs. He kissed her unmercifully He licked around her neck.    
     
Zaniyah palmed the sides of Marcus’ face; she lifted her head from off the carpet. She intensified the kiss.    
     
Marcus roved his palm over Zaniyah’s thigh.    
     
“I’ve been thinking about you all day. Thinking the next time I have you in my arms, it’s going to be damn hard allowing you to run from them.”    
     
He slid her thong aside and stuck his finger inside her pussy.    
     
“Umm.”    
     
Zaniyah arched her back.    
     
Marcus leaned his head down and kissed a breast nipple through her dress. He pulled her dress down, withdrew his finger, and smeared her nipple with it. He dipped his head and suckled her breast.    
     
“Oh…shit.”    
     
Zaniyah crisscrossed her arms behind Marcus’ head and pulled his lips into her breast.    
     
Marcus gently yanked on the nipple.    
     
“Oh sweet Lord,” Zaniyah moaned.    
     
Marcus’ lips galloped over to the other breast. He licked over the resting nipple. He palmed the breast, and flickered his tongue over the nipple.    
     
Zaniyah opened her legs wider.    
     
“Make love to me Zaniyah. I want you to need me, and only me.”    
     
Marcus stood and removed the weapon from behind his waistband. He bent over and placed it on the carpet. He unbuttoned his jeans; he pushed them and his briefs down his legs. He kicked both aside.    
     
Zaniyah appreciated the pending foray of his hard erection.    
     
Marcus got on his knees. He went under Zaniyah’s dress and pulled down her thong. He sat her up and unzipped her dress from behind. He lifted the dress over her head and placed it alongside his clothing. He quickly removed her shoes.    
     
Marcus laid back on the carpet.    
     
“Come here beautiful woman.”    
     
Marcus palmed his manhood in attention.    
     
Zaniyah climbed between Marcus’ legs. She wrapped her palm around his manhood; she kissed the tip.    
     
“Oh, I’ve been thinking about you touching me all day long, shit.”    
     
Marcus palmed the side of Zaniyah’s neck and maintained his dick; he softly thrust it inside her mouth.    
     
Zaniyah opened her mouth wider and eased the wet channel down his manhood and over his fingers. She bobbed her head up and down. She suckled over Marcus’ bent fingers.    
     
“Oh sweet beautiful woman.”    
     
Zaniyah eased her mouth back. She bent her head and kissed the hairs covering Marcus’ scrotum. She snaked her tongue up and down the brick hard flesh.    
     
“Fu...ck, yeah.”    
     
Marcus placed his arms under Zaniyah’s arms and pulled her upward.    
     
Zaniyah landed on Marcus’ groin.    
     
Marcus lifted his manhood.    
     
Zaniyah lifted her pelvis. Her pussy housed his pulsating family jewels.    
     
“Oh...Marcus.”    
     
Zaniyah declined her head and kissed Marcus on her lips.    
     
Marcus cupped the sides of Zaniyah’s face. He tongue slid inside her mouth, bullying her tongue.    
     
“Mmm,” Zaniyah muttered.    
     
Marcus’ groin scaled upward as Zaniyah’s crashed her pelvis downward.    
     
“Mar…Marcus.”    
     
Marcus released his hands from Zaniyah’s face; his back met the carpet; he palmed Zaniyah’s buttocks and squeezed them.    
     
“Fuck…that’s right…right there.”    
     
Marcus palmed Zaniyah’s back, and pulled her body down on his. He wrapped his legs around hers.    
     
“Mar…cu…here, shit.”    
     
Zaniyah’s vaginal muscles crested, rested, and then relaxed.    
     
“Oh…Marcus…”    
     
Marcus held Zaniyah tighter.    
     
“Yeah...baby I hear you, shit.”    
     
Marcus’ sperm speared inside Zaniyah’s pussy.    
     
“Oh fuck woman…you.”    
     
Zaniyah kissed Marcus’ lips.    
     
Marcus wrapped his arms around Zaniyah’s body and hugged her to him tighter. He lifted her off him and stood. He held his hand down.    
     
“You come here beautiful woman.”    
     
Zaniyah clasped her hand in Marcus’ hand and stood.    
     
Both rushed over to the bed.    
     
ZD’S ART GALLERY    
Park Avenue    
Manhattan, New York    
Midnight Hour    
     
“Man, make sure you do no trip the alarm system.”    
     
“Not to worry, I have a key.”    
     
“How in the fuck were you able to get a key to Zaniyah’s art gallery?”    
     
“Her last gallery showing. I was to watch over that spoiled bitch, and I was the one to lock up. I made a copy of her keys, just in case.”    
     
“And this is the, just in case.”    
     
“Smart man.”    
     
“If we do not get caught.”    
     
Tango and Domenico turned on their flashlight.    
     
“You did say the shipment is supposed to be here.”    
     
“Yes, this is the day her regular shipment is due, and she usually does not stock her inventory into the net day.”    
     
“Both entered the front of the galley showing room.    
     
Tango hit his flashlight against his palm.    
     
“So where the fuck is the crate.”    
     
“I had confirmation it was delivered, and Zaniyah signed for it.”    
     
“Then where the fuck is it?”    
     
“How in the fuck should I know?”    
     
“Let’s look in the back.”    
     
Both men hurried to the back storage area of the gallery.    
     
Two flashlights scanned the storage.    
     
“Man, I don’t see shit.”    
     
“Fuck.”    
     
“Tango that crate had over three million dollars worth of uncut cocaine stashed in those teddy bears. If we do not find that crate, you and I are dead men walking.”    
     
Tango slicked his hand back through his hair.    
     
“Let me think.”    
     
“You better think of some shit fast. If we do not deliver to the Russian Cartel, then you may as well kiss your ass goodbye, and your next of kin. You know those ruthless bastards do not play with their money or their drugs.”    
     
“I told you it was a bad idea when you suggested the drop off destination of this art gallery.”    
     
“By the way, where is Zaniyah?”    
     
“How the fuck should I know, I’m tired of babysitting that bitch, I have my own agenda.”    
     
“Well, it appears your own agenda may have cost us our lives. Let’s get out of here. Maybe we can put our heads together and come up with some shit.”    
     
“Maybe we could blame the disappearance of the crate on Zaniyah.”    
     
“I do not see how; her man is not into drugs, but everything else.”    
     
“We just ought to kidnap Zaniyah, and make Mr. Delaro pay the three million dollars for his daughter’s ransom; it’s not like he doesn’t have it.”    
     
“Yes, from our hard work, while his hands stay clean.”    
     
Domenico palmed his chin down.    
     
“That may not be such a bad idea Tango. Let me make a couple of calls. Starting first with our supplier. Once I explain this shit, hopefully it could buy us some time to come up with an elaborate plan. In the meantime, we need to get the fuck out of here.”    
     
“Yeah, I need to check in with Mr. Delaro about his daughter again.”    
     
“And I have to make an appearance to see Mr. Ramo.”    
     
Tango glanced down at his watch.    
     
“This late.”    
     
“Don’t worry, Mr. Delaro do not know if I shook Mr. Ramo down tonight, or not, in this case, not.”    
     
Both men walked from out the storage area and over to the back door.    
     
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